Office Heat Ch. 01

The business floor was in darkness, except for two partitioned offices at opposite ends.

At his desk in his own partition, Greg leaned back in his chair as his monitor finally showed the upgrade was complete. He hadn't needed his light on, the screen providing all the illumination he needed. At last, he could relax and go home, so he begun shut down.

As he put his jacket on, there was a soft ping from the computer. As system admin, he had to monitor all emails. This one had automatically been cc-ed to him as spam. The shutdown went on hold, requesting authorisation before continuing. Greg clicked on the legend 'h.q@officeone. com' and scanned the contents. His eyes widened as he took them in. The spam filter had noted several 'adult' words and potential 'porn', but it wasn't a general email that got through the firewall... it was direct and personal from a lover to 'h.q'. That was Helen. Policy was not to allow personal emails, especially this intimate, but as it seemed to be the first he'd just issue a verbal warning. He scribbed 'PLEASE SEE ME ASAP' on some memo paper, switched the monitor off, picked up his case and left his partition.

Helen's office was at the far end, and as Greg neared it he could see the light was on. She was a diligent girl, always willing to work late to clear stuff. His watch said 9.30pm, and it was dark outside. If her lover was missing her because she was doing the necessaries here, then his warning could be more lenient, provided it didn't happen again. He smiled as he recalled the contents. It left little to the imagination, and Helen seemed so reserved. Not shy but private. Still, they say the quiet ones have the most secrets...

Just outside her office, still out of sight, he heard a buzzing sound. He looked round, wondering if a fax machine was whirring away but it came from Helen's partition. Maybe it was hers. He levelled with the first window and peered in, expecting to see her, eyes glued to monitor or head down writing away.

His eyes widened for the second time that evening.

She had her head tilted back, eyes closed and hair down. Reclined in her big office chair, one stockinged foot up on the seat by her parted thighs. Greg could see they were stockings, sheer and black as the night outside, as her skirt was hitched up, almost to her...

He swallowed, because he could see that too, her skimpy lacy undies pulled to one side as she eased a slender tube into the pink glistening wetness of herself. It was this that buzzed. A vibrator. She let out a low moan as she moved it around, teasing her clit and labia with it.

Helen swung her chair round a bit and looked at her monitor again. Unseen still, Greg couldn't be sure but she was probably reading the email. He tried to recall the quickly glimpsed details, and was reasonably sure what had seemed like suggestions of intimacy when together were being played out, solo. She unbuttoned her purple blouse a bit, and slipped a slender hand inside, caressing a nipple. Then she lay her head back on the chair rest and continued guiding the vibrator in and around. More low moaning, the whispered suggestion of a name...

Greg wasn't sure what to do. He felt he should leave her to it but he was aware he was growing hard at the sight. Sure he'd seen pics and vids of girls masturbating in mags and online, but here was someone he knew and, if he were honest, thought very fanciable. Fuckable, in fact. Someone who, if inclined, he could reach out and touch. His boxers became unbearably tight from his increased size, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

A floorboard creaked under him.

Greg stepped back from the window instinctively, still cloaked enough in darkness for Helen not to see him as she heard it too. Suddenly sitting upright, her foot slipped from the seat as one slender hand tugged the skirt hem back down to her knees, while the other dropped the now-silent vibrator in a desk drawer so quickly, it seemed like a conjuror's vanishing trick. Now you see it...

Now was the right time.

Greg counted to three and held the note, as if reading it, and pretended he was in mid-stride as he walked past the window and into the office. Helen was adjusting her hair, slightly breathless. Only a blush to her cheeks betrayed any previous illicit activity.

"Ah, Helen... " His voice seemed unnaturally croaky as it broke the silence, "Still here I see." He hoped he wasn't blushing as much as she. He dropped the note on her desk, aware of the vague scent of arousal women had from her. "Server picked up a personal email with... um... some risque content. You know the policy. Please don't let it happen again."

Helen smiled meekly, "Sorry, Greg. It was my boyfriend. He's away at the moment, and it was a... " She paused, searching for a correct if metaphorical explanation. "a... rather pressing matter. I'll tell him not to in future. He can text me."

Pressing matter, Greg thought. He had visions of Helen pushing the vibrator in herself, the low sensual moans... Yes, 'pressing' was one way of putting it. He knew what he'd like to press into her too.

Damn.

He realised that, if he'd wanted, he could have let the matter drop. By warning Helen he had now stopped a way of finding out what excited her. He had the original one, just sent, sure. But he could have found out more. In his boxers, his cock twitched painfully.

There was a sudden low, muffled buzz from the desk.

Helen started with an equally muffled cry of embarrassment. Eyed the drawer desperately.

Oh dear, Greg thought. "What was that?" he asked, knowing full well what it was.

"What was what?" Helen tried to look innocent. Badly.

Zzzzzzzz.

'That buzzing sound?"

Helen suddenly seemed inspired. Greg could almost see the imaginary light bulb flicking on above her dark reddish hair. "Oh! Oh yes! It's my mobile. On silent and vibrate. Must have left it on. Could be the boyfriend!" She beamed with relief.

Zzzzzzzz.

An awkward silence. Except for the muffled buzz.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" Greg asked.

Helen's smiling face broke into several odd, indescribable expressions, one after the other.

"Could be... another pressing matter?" Greg slightly enjoyed her awkwardness.

Zzzzzzzz.

"Answer it?" She finally replied, the colour of beetroot. "Um... yes. Yes! Of course. Answer it... "

Greg pointed at the direction of the buzzing. "That drawer, I think?"

Helen slowly, rather than eagerly, opened the drawer, letting the buzz out with loud clarity. She reached in with both hands and, although Greg couldn't see directly, seemed to make a slight twisting motion. The buzzing died.

A pause. "Must have missed it." She sounded relieved instead of annoyed. Anyone else would be puzzled but Greg knew the reason. His cock was throbbingly hard now. The thought of her playing... pleasuring...

More moments of awkward silence.

"Was there anything else?" Helen finally asked. It was obvious she wanted rid of him. How close she had been to having an orgasm? Greg considered. If at all. He could do much better...

Fuck it, Greg thought. Now or never...

"Do you use a vibrator?" he asked, surprising himself with his candour.

Helen went the colour of snow. Oh fuck, she thought. He saw.

And heard. All too obviously. Greg wondered if she went white all over, the paleness of her soft thighs contrasting with the black of her stockings. Her lacy panties. He would love to find out.

"I... I think... " Helen stammered, defensively, "...t-that's a bit... personal, don't you?"

Greg nodded. "It's in your drawer, Helen."

There was no point in lying further. She opened the drawer and slowly pulled it out. It still glistened from her wetness. Greg caught some of her natural scent from it. It drove him wild.

Helen lowered her head. "Are you going to report me?"

Greg didn't like the idea of illicitly taking advantage. He could say, "Well, I could... but if you let me go down on you, or give me a blow job, or have sex with me, I'll overlook it this time." It was, even if crudely unsubtle, what he'd like. He bit his lip, undecided.

Helen was suddenly in front of him, looking smaller and vulnerable. She was in stockinged feet, so a few inches shorter than he usually knew her. Her heels would normally bring her up, eye-to-eye. Eyes which now began to well up with tears.

Greg laid a hand on her shoulder. "You must miss you boyfriend an awful lot to... " He struggled for the right words, "... well, you know?"

She nodded, looking down.

He tried to think of something casual, friendly and reassuring to say. "What's he like?" he eventually decided.

Helen got a photo out of her handbag and held it up to him. He could almost be looking in a mirror. The same short black hair style framing a very similar face. He blushed a bit and, comparing him to the photo, Helen did too.

"You're very alike." she remarked. And giggled. Greg couldn't help laughing either. She hugged him. Then froze. He could feel her tum against his very obvious erection. She couldn't help but notice either, and stepped back a bit, blushing again.

More awkward silence. Breathless pants from both. Greg knew he wanted her. And Helen, missing her boyfriend and interrupted from playing, was in need. And here was a willing, almost double. It had been some weeks...

They suddenly, needily, embraced in a kiss. Helen on tip-toe imagining he was her boyfriend, Greg thinking of her, suddenly accessible and wanting him. It was an instant, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for both. Their hands searched and explored each other, tearing at restricting covering clothes. He pushed her back, to sit on the edge of her desk. The skirt hitched up naturally as her thighs were parted under the strong grip of his hands.

He kneeled before her and teased the stretchy lace of her panties to one side, revealing her warm wetness, swollen with arousal. She rested a foot on his shoulder and ran her fingers gently through his hair, as he leaned in, taking in her sweet scent, and let his tongue pleasure her. Helen let out another low moan, squeezing on it. He was heavenly.

With one hand, he gripped her thigh just above the top of her stocking, and let his other fingers dig deep inside while his tongue flicked over her clit. Helen's fingers clawed at his scalp in blissful ecstasy, the moans becoming cries of loud unashamed pleasure. She ground her thighs into his face in near desperate, self-aware horniness.

Greg was taken aback by her sheer lust. But that didn't stop him. Months of pent-up desire for Helen were being unleashed in moments. And Helen, her own needs bottled up for weeks by her absent boyfriend, let her libido fly. Greg's tongue was amazing, hot, rough and wild. She felt it flick and lick all over, inside. She brought her other foot up onto Greg, and squeezed his head between her thighs. Pinned, Greg could only swirl his tongue even more, and delve and wiggle his fingers. Helen gasped, panting. He could feel her inner strength gripping them, rippling over them, and then they exploded into life...

Helen's nails dug into his head as she threw her head back and almost screamed her orgasm. Greg's fingers kept wiggling, his tongue flipping her clit round. Helen followed with short panting cries, as tidal waves of feeling from her tingling twat consumed her. All that need, squeezed into a moment of awesome release.

Under her, Greg got the receiving end, as she twitched and quivered over his fingers. His tongue was suddenly covered in dripping sweet wetness.

And then it was over.

Helen flopped over him, exhausted. Stroking his savaged scalp again. She let her feet slip from his shoulders, releasing him from her torrid trap. She sat up and looked down at him with grateful if guilty eyes.

Greg looked up, her wetness still on his lips.

He had satisfied her need.

Would she satisfy his?

To be continued...